Fuck You, Teacher!

If you’re walking home from work and have noticed an increase in illicit park drinking, young people gazing hopelessly into the abyss of the Jobcentre plus window and numerous strewn and unfashionable – yet practical – ties wet with tears and felt tip ink, it’s probably because today is A-level results day.

The best part of A-level results day is when the demob-happy, joyous little bastards seek revenge on those who guided them through this testing time in life because they know they can now do so without impunity. It’s basically one last mardi gras for people who have arrived at adult age and still believe all teachers are out to get them, before reality bites and they realise that there are bigger cunts in the world out to get them.

So let’s hear it for those kids, and look at how they’ve spent the day rubbing those grade predictions back in the faces of the government drones who so cruelly wrote off their genius.

Yeah, fuck you Mrs Li, Ciara Walton’s coursework on Friends was a work of unparalleled genius! And you just couldn’t get your tiny, by-the-curriculum mind around it, could you? And you’re a slut! (Not sure how Ciara knows that.) Oh, and Ciara might be a racist. Good luck in the big, wide world, Ciara! There are absolutely no asian people in it, so that media A-level you’ve bagged yourself should see you rise all the way to the top.

Hang your head in shame, Mrs Roberts, your early dismissal of Matt Baker’s potential will surely have you ranking alongside the guy who told The Beatles that guitar bands were out in lists about people who made stupid decisions.

This is actually the first line in Ben Gaget’s “Juicy” style rags to riches and bitches hip-hop anthem. He hasn’t written the rest of it yet, but no doubt it will contain a line about a car he buys his mum.

Fair enough, Corinna, I had Milwright too and the man was as dubious as they come.

Then, of course, there are the even less humble success stories, the ones who don’t just want to blind their old teachers with glory, but also have a grudge to settle with British society as a whole.

A young man who, much like EL James, has evidently decided that the world of academia isn’t for him and has set off to make his fortune in the world of erotic fiction. I was gonna make a snarky comment about how pornography’s not such a lucrative, booming business these days, but I can’t think of a better way to piss your teacher off than by growing up destitute writing wank material for your mum’s friends.

There were a couple of people who took a more nonchalant approach to their failures, telling the people of Twitter that they didn’t care anyway and that exams are for squares. While the rest of Britain’s youth were toiling away memorising stuff like the periodic table, Tudor monarchs and other useless things, these guys were off smoking tabs and bogwashing year sevens in the toilets, skills that will prove invaluable in the years to come.

There’s nothing like your first drink being borne of rueful defiance to set up a golden future.

Looking over these, it’s clear that British A-level students are an ungrateful lot. I’m sure some of these teachers weren’t exactly Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous MInds, but would you be prepared to attempt to control 30 proto-humans with tiny brains for less money than your average third division rugby league star? What are they in this game for, a sense of wellbeing? I don’t think so.

Still, at least in this country our dissatisfied students just insult their teachers on Twitter. In America, it can be a little different.

Follow Clive on Twitter: @thugclive

Still a child who walks around in uniform? Find solace in The VICE Guide to School.